If Only....

Skunk

On instinct you wiped your face with your hand and turned away from where the voice came from. "I'm fine," you mumbled.

"Saw you up onstage earlier," the voice said, getting closer. You could have sworn you recognized it from somewhere. "You're not half bad."

"Tell that to the audience," you said, laughing without humor. Taking a long drink of beer, you forgot to care and burped. "Sorry."

"Ya' know, I'll be honest," the voice said. "I think your singin' is too good for the band you're in." Finally turning around to see who your company was, you almost fainted on the spot when you saw Malcolm Young himself smoking a cigarette. You weren't sure if the band was touring at the minute and you didn't get your hopes up that the rest of AC/DC would appear out of nowhere. But standing in front of you was the reason you wanted to join a band in the first place. At first you tried to be a guitarist like him but after jamming around during rehearsals and switching roles, you realized singing was your real talent. And now your talent would go to waste as you stood in the unemployment line waiting for a nine to five job like your parents wanted. "Their playin'-don't mind my sayin' this-is a bit stiff, ya' know?"

"You're...you're-"

"Hi," Malcolm said, holding his hand out for you to shake. A bit of rain coated his face and hair. You took his hand and tried to keep your breathing steady. It would do you no good to pass out or vomit in front of the man. "Surprised ya' recognized me. I usually go unscathed."

"How could I not know who you are?" you blurted out and he laughed, looking down at his shoes. You quickly cleared your throat and regained composure. "Sorry."

"Nah, I don't mind," he said. He looked around and smoked his cigarette. "Jus' makin' sure your band wasn't around to hear me."

"Don't worry about them," you muttered. "They all just quit on me. They don't want to be in a band anymore." The tears were quickly replaced by anger and annoyance. 

"Not for them, I take it?" Malcolm asked. 

"Guess not," you said. "But it's for me." Malcolm nodded. "I don't want to work at some regular job with regular hours. I want excitement! I want adventure!" You took another long drink of beer and didn't feel so cold anymore. "I want free drinks."

"Hey, I understand," Malcolm said. "My brothers an' I all wanted to play music an' what have you. It's what we do, ya' know?" Oh you knew, alright. "An' I understand it's not to everyone's taste, either. Ya' got your interviews, ya' got your studio sessions, ya' got your feisty managers sometimes...the list goes on."

"Yeah, but it's all worth it, isn't it?" you asked, feeling a lot more comfortable around him. Malcolm must have had that kind of calming presence. Or it could have been the alcohol. 

"Sure. For some," he said. "Sure worth it to me. I get to play rock an' roll an' since no one else is doin' it...."

"So....you saw us play?" you asked, feeling hopeful. Perhaps he thought you had potential.

"I did," he said. "Jus' for a bit, then I needed a smoke break."

"You...didn't see the end of the show?" He shook his head and you sighed. "We got thrown offstage," you said. "My friends thought we weren't that good and they quit."

"Well I can't say their playin' was too good," Malcolm said. "Pardon my sayin' so."

"But was I good?" you asked. That was really all that mattered to you. As bad as you felt that your friends weren't happy in a band, the idea that you could make it big still gave you hope. 

Malcolm shrugged. "Sure," he said. "I think with a little tunin' up you could get up there." You could feel your cheeks turn bright red. Malcolm may as well have said he was your biggest fan. Which, considering the opinion of everyone else in the world, he practically was. "Ya' say your band quit?"

"Yeah," you said. "Now I'll have to scout for new players."

"Hey, that's an opportunity," Malcolm said. "Skip that nepotism shit an' find the best of the best an' start a new band. An' don't look at me like that," he added, pointing a finger. "Angus is one of the best players I've ever worked with, he earned his place."

"You know where I can find any good musicians?" you asked. Talent scouting wasn't exactly where you thought you'd end up but if it was a necessary step, you'd take it. 

Malcolm shook the rain out of his face and gestured toward the building. "Could always start in there," he said. "Bars an' clubs have people play all the time. Hold auditions an' always make it real clear what you want. Filter out any jazz players or bubblegum hoppers if that isn't what ya' want."

"Bubblegum...hoppers?" you giggled, hiccuping. Malcolm shrugged. 

"Whatever they're called. Ya' know what I mean." He let his cigarette fall to the street and stomped it out. "I should get goin'. An' I didn't catch your name?"

"Y/N," you said, shaking his hand again. The giddy feeling started coming back. The real Malcolm Young was still standing in front of you. Giving you advice!

"Well, Y/N, good luck," he said, turning to go. "An' go easy on those friends of yours, it ain't their fault if a band's not their thing." The anger you felt towards your friends for quitting began to fade. Maybe Malcolm was right. You did kind of coerce them into joining. The idea of being in a band and playing music blinded you to what your friends wanted. All you cared about in that moment was yourself. You looked up to say goodbye to Malcolm but he was already gone. 

It was decided then. After finding your friends and making things right, you'd go to every bar in town and get your new band together. Even if it took a little longer than you had hoped. 

Skunk wasn't finished yet.